Fanchon's Book(39)

"In the rain? Fireworks?"

"It's stopped raining, I'll bet. It must have-or they'd be canceling the announce-"

"Kristi, please! I've got something to tell you. Something more important than the weather or fireworks. Would you be considerate enough to listen?"

"Okay, so I'm listening. What's so important?"

"The money. Money for an apartment. I know how we can get it. I'm going to write a book."

"A book? Poetry, you mean?"

"Of course not. Or short stories, either; none of those arty things that only the critics read. No, I'll do a novel, a fast potboiler to suit the masses. A mystery, maybe, or one of those crime shockers with lots of sex and gore. Whatever is selling best these days. I'll have to check with my agent and find out."

"A novel… " She shrugged in unconcerned apathy. "Sounds pretty farfetched to me. Just because you've written. some poems and stories-"

"Darling, I love you-but this is business. Please don't set yourself up as a judge of my literary ability. I'm sure I can handle the job. What are you trying to do, discourage me?"

"You needn't get huffy about it. I was just wondering, that's all. How long will it take?"

"Hard to say. But I've got a shrewd agent. He might be able to get me an advance quite soon-and then we'll rent a cozy little flat for you. All right?"

"I-I guess so." Then, as if my writing a book had already become a closed incident, "Fanchon, can we watch the fireworks tonight?"

"Must we? Oh well, if it will make you happy. But I'd like to go back to our room and put through a long-distance phone call first, I do have to talk to my agent and the sooner the better."

"Uh-huh. We can change clothes then. We'll stop on the way up and see what the weather is like, hmm?"

"Yes, dear. Have you finished your dessert?"

"I've finished this one. But we're not in that much of a hurry, are we? I want some more. There's plenty of time before the fireworks start."

I won the battle against my rising irritation and ordered the extra dessert, along with another coffee and cognac for myself. It was silly to feel so indignant, I realized. Just because she had punctured my pride with her lack of enthusiasm about the new project. Actually, my hurt feelings were no less childish than her sudden hankering for confections and fireworks-and she, at least, had some excuse for it, after all, wasn't she just a little girl on a spree?

Asinine, then, to let my impatience dilute the holiday spirit. The phone call to Stutz would keep. There was no rush. Although our waiter did seem a bit churlish about bringing the second order-and with good reason: we were practically the last ones left in the place. But that didn't bother me; indeed it was gratifying to be alone with Kristi again, even if we weren't behind locked doors. From our corner table the huge candlelit hall appeared almost deserted, an echoless cavern of romantically flickering shadows. I looked at her and felt a sentimental glow. So lovely. Precious. And such a happy little cherub, truly, spooning up the fresh batch of sweet stuff and smacking her lips over every bite.

She caught my eye. "Fanchon, you're staring."

"Nobody will notice. The place is empty."

"So it is. Hmm, that gives me an idea. Eureka. I was going to wait till we got upstairs, but… "

"Darling? I don't understand."

"Eureka. From the ancient Greek, remember?" She leaned close, frost forming on her words. "You weren't very nice to me tonight, Fanchon. You didn't have to be so sarcastic."